


Just close your eyes

by Snowingiron



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Slash, alternative universe, some blood, some violence, spoilers for the whole game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:50:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowingiron/pseuds/Snowingiron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But the blade never pierced his flesh. Jacob's face was screwed up in pain and loathing for his own weakness. He couldn't do it. He was straddling Roth's hips, a position they had been in more than once but this time it was different. Slowly he closed his eyes and let his head fall on Roth's chest, the blade snapping back into his bracer.</p><p>"I can't do it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just close your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Just close your eyes (Chinese Version)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529614) by [d7b7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/d7b7/pseuds/d7b7)



> basically wrote it because [this post](http://bandicoot88.tumblr.com/post/135053909325/rothfrye-ideas-because-why-not-dancing-with) mentioned Jacob hiding his face under his hood and [another one](http://freakydeakydarling.tumblr.com/post/134627374273/alright-but-wheres-the-fic-andor-art-that-has#_=_%0A) mentioned Roth taking off his gloves with his teeth. hmm and then a bit of story happened.
> 
> Again, I apologise for every typo and grammar error, english is not my first language and I don't have a beta v.v AND I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE FROM JACOB'S POV I CAN ONLY DO ROTH, HOW?  
> ([But I'm on tumblr](http://squishysoul.tumblr.com/))

Blood was rushing into Roth 's head, his arms flailing around helplessly. Only a rope wrapped around his foot held him in the air and he caught a glimpse of Jacob, standing on the stage with an expression as blank as a page. But it was crumpled and Roth could spot the little cracks of doubt and hurt. It was delicious, even in the face of death.

Jacob forcefully dragged him down onto the stage, the hidden blade shot out with a swift sound, pointing at Roth's throat. He just grinned at the assassin. He had always been ready to die, ever since he was born. Death was the perfect ending to his game, his story, it would leave a mark on Jacob that would ache every now and then. He would remember it in the moment of his own death and Roth would be the last thing on his mind. That had been one of his goals after all. To be remembered.

But the blade never pierced his flesh. Jacob's face was screwed up in pain and loathing for his own weakness. He couldn't do it. He was straddling Roth's hips, a position they had been in more than once but this time it was different. Slowly he closed his eyes and let his head fall on Roth's chest, the blade snapping back into his bracer.

"I can't do it," he growled and Roth was almost disappointed. Didn't he teach his boy nothing?

"You don't even want to be free, darling?"

Jacob sat up again, fingers grasping Roth's Jacket to lift him up as well, until they were face to face.

"Is this your freedom, Roth? Is this your _vision_? Your whole world is burning."

Roth couldn't help it, he threw back his head and laughed, deep voice and eyes closed. He could feel Jacob shaking him, demanding answers, kind words, cruel words, anything. But Roth didn't have anything for him. Jacob wasn't ready after all.

"I won't kill you," Jacob finally snarled and let go of him, rising to his feet gracefully. Oh, he was so beautiful. "But I won't rescue you either."

And with that he pulled down his hood and jumped off the stage with one hand on the rail, swinging himself over it.

Roth kept lying on the wood that was growing warmer with each moment. He sucked in the air in huge gulps but it was burning in his lungs and he stared at the ceiling of his wonderful theatre. He hadn't planned to live after this and he was oh so tempted to just let himself get eaten by the flames. Fire was purifying and perhaps it would melt away his flesh and bones until he was something new. Roth closed his eyes when breathing became harder and decided that he would stay. He wouldn't let Jacob ruin his perfect ending, his so well planned death. There was a voice in the distance, foot steps, and then hands on his body. Or was it just the flames screaming and tearing at him? He didn't know because everything went black.

* 

_As soon as Roth saw Jacob, he wanted him. He wanted to have him, on him, inside of him. He wanted to devour Jacob and rip him open to see what could get under the young man's skin. Everytime Jacob was lying on his bed sleeping, he would trace that perfectly damaged skin with his rough fingers, touch him and lick him, until he was awake again, spreading his legs willingly for another round. Oh, Jacob produced the sweetest sounds, so dark and filthy, in a way that made Roth shiver in delight. Jacob knew what he wanted but he was too ashamed of it outside of the bedroom. He would always say 'last time' but he couldn't say no to Roth._

_It was a vicious dance that he never got tired of and he loved the faces that Jacob pulled when Roth found yet another thing to make him submit. Roth would whisper about the things he wanted to do to Jacob while they stood on a roof and let the blighters do the work. He would watch the assassin drag the hood deeper into his face, trying to hide a delicate blush._

_"Stop it, Roth."_

_But he would never stop._

_"Last time," Jaco always insisted but then he climbed through Roth's window again, right into his arms._

_"This house has a door, my dear. Do you want to make Lewis' job useless?"_

_Jacob just kissed him with the taste of wine on his lips and the heat of death radiating from his skin._

_"I'm an assassin," Jacob breathed and made hungry noises into Roth's mouth. "Doors are boring."_

_And what on earth, heaven or hell could possibly break them apart? Jacob was utterly his, he never refused him, never. He came back everytime._

_Except for that one night. The night after they had fought over the worth of children's life in Starrick's service. It wasn't just the fear he saw in Jacob's eyes that made him angry. It was the fact that he cared so much, so much more than he did for any of Roth's goals._

_Those children were nothing in the great scheme and someone who was free would know that. He physically felt Jacob slipping away from his possessive grasp, his tight embrace, like a lover who was dragged away by the strong waves of the sea. Roth had died a little in that moment and his next step had only been logical. Everything would end in death eventually. Everyone knew that._

*

Roth woke with a groan. His mouth tasted like ashes and his skin was so sensitive even the blanket scratched and hurt.

"Water," he croaked and a glass of wine was put against his lips immediately, a hand on the back of his head supported him so he could drink. He coughed after the first gulp and shook his head vehemently, trying to sit up so he could cough properly.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you never demanded water before."

Lewis. Roth's eyes snapped open and he instantly wanted to close them again. His head hurt and he felt dizzy, his mouth was still dry and he _couldn't stop coughing_.

"Why?" He managed to ask before he doubled over again and Lewis just stayed at his side motionless. Why did he save Roth and ruined his plan?

"I'm sorry, Sir," he repeated. "But a death like that needs to be earned, you said so yourself."

It took days until he felt like himself again, until he couldn't taste the smoke on his tongue anymore. Starrick didn't care that one of his henchmen was indisposed, they died like mayflies anyway and everyone in Starrick's service was replaceable. The assassins would try to cut off the heads, but there was always a new one growing in their place.

It was strange to go back to a life without Jacob in it and often Lewis would find him at his desk, writing on paper furiously. He would send his blighters into the other boroughs, not to kill Jacob, but to tease him, to lure him back. A life without Jacob was impossible now. He could make Jacob kill him eventually. He just had to try harder.

"Sir." Lewis was silently closing the door behind him. "Mr. Starrick wants to inform you, that he killed an assassin."

Roth's pen stilled above the paper and a big blop of ink dropped and stained the already written words.

"Killed? When?"

"He didn't say."

He felt numb, he didn't know how to feel anymore. It was like he had already lost everything, like Jacob had already been dead to him. _Ah_ , perhaps that was Lewis' secret to his lost emotions? Roth didn't regret what he had turned him into. And he didn't regret Jacob.

"Is everyone trying to ruin my plan? Well, perhaps I should be glad. It's all about the surprises, isn't it? I think it is time for us to move on, Lewis. This city can offer me nothing anymore."

Lewis bowed slightly. "Very well, Sir."

But they never got that far. In the dead of night, when Roth gathered a few books from his shelf to take with him, he heard a sound behind him. It was so familiar that it sent shivers down his spine, pleasant but also aggravating. He put down the books he was holding in his hands and slowly turned around. The streets were still illuminated by the street lamps, so he could easily make out the silhouette of a hooded person crouching in his window frame.

_Not dead then._

There was a moment of silence hanging between them in which they stared at each other. The small candle next to Roth didn't reach the hooded figure, but he knew him nonetheless. He knew the shape, the smell that washed over him and the sound that those boots made when they hit the floor.

"Starrick killed my sister..."

His voice. This was the only thing Roth didn't recognise. Jacob sounded like a wounded animal begging to be finished off, sadness and rage tainting his words. For a moment Roth thought he was pathetic, this was not the boy he had fallen for. But then he remembered that he himself had been like that too, once. When he hadn't been free. Perhaps he could lead Jacob there after all.

"He killed Evie, my sister." Jacob still had the hood on and when he came closer, when he stepped into the dim light, Roth could see part of his face. There were gleaming traces on his cheeks, connecting under his chin and it took Roth a moment to realise that it were tears. He had never seen Jacob cry before.

Roth carefully reached for the him but stopped himself half the way, when he noticed that he still had his gloves on. He always wore them because the world was a disgusting place, but Jacob was the one thing he had to touch bare, skin on skin. He bit the fingertip of the glove and then pulled it off with his teeth, throwing it to the ground. He did the same to the other one and then it was only a matter of seconds until he pushed back the hood and traced Jacob's face with his fingers. Oh he had missed that. But Jacob's eyes were full of grief and he clung to Roth immediately, putting all his weight on him.

"Help me," he almost begged. "Help me kill Starrick, I cannot do it alone."

Roth examined his face with care, stroking Jacob's cheek, touching his lips.

"Oh, my dear Jacob. Why should I help you after everything you've done?"

He could see Jacob swallow his tears and sorrow until nothing but determination and hot temper was left.

"Did you forget? I can't say no to you... but you can't say no to me either. If you help me, I'll go with you."

He didn't say "I'll follow you", that clever boy. Jacob would only submit to him in bed or in the darkest corners of this city. But Roth should not forget that this was an assassin, his brave little assassin that loved to compete and bleed in the fighting pits, whose fury could paint all streets in red. It was what Roth wanted, an equal partner to share everything with, he was so tired of servants. Perhaps this was their chance.

"You will go with me? Where?"

"Anywhere. I always wanted to... and now there's nothing to hold me back."

Roth hummed. "Sometimes you have to lose something important to be free."

Misery poured back into Jacob's eyes and he closed them quickly so Roth wouldn't have to see it. But he already did.

"I would trade everything to have her back."

"Even me?"

"Even you. If I had killed you, would Starrick have been distracted enough to leave her alone?"

Jacob was looking at him now, still holding on to him and Roth couldn't deny him the truth. He pulled him even closer until their lips almost met.

"Perhaps. In every play each death has its meaning, nothing happens for the sake of coincidences. Maybe that's why most people prefer the tragedy of tales over their pathetic lifes. In this world, you can only blame yourself for each mistake. Or god. We need to be free of that, my dear."

"I only want revenge."

Roth all but grinned at him. "Good. That is the first step."

"So you will help me?" Jacob truly seemed surprised.

"You said it yourself. So how can I deny you this?"

Roth used the grip on Jacob's face to tilt him down for a kiss, a kiss that was all teeth and desperate need for something they both had thought lost. But they still knew each other's bodies well and when he pushed Jacob on his desk it was almost like nothing had changed at all. With every touch and every piece of clothing that dropped to the floor, the memories of betrayal faded into nothingness.

Jacob was already flushed and panting when Roth shoved his oiled fingers into him, gently preparing him for something less gentle. Jacob was asking for more, one more finger, one more touch, one more kiss. He was on his back, the slim light of the candle made his skin seem soft like silk but Roth could feel every scar when he touched him. He was rough and shaped by the world and Roth loved that. He loved everything about Jacob.

"Please..." But it didn't sound like a plea, more like a demand and Roth obliged.

He hooked one of Jacob's legs in the crook of his elbow and pressed in deeply, drawing a groan of pleasure from the young man. Roth closed his eyes as he entered him, but only for that moment, he always wanted to look at Jacob, see how he squirmed and twisted underneath him, how he took every thrust like it was a gift.

Roth quickened his pace, his bones already tired but still determined to drive Jacob over the edge. He leaned over him some more, pressing their bodies together, and panting heavily as the words tumbled from his lips.

"When this is over... You'll be mine forever, won't you?"

Jacob squeezed his eyes together and tried to hold on to the edge of the desk so he wouldn't be pushed over. Roth was rough and harsh and he couldn't help it, he thrusted in deeper and latched on to Jacob's neck with his teeth. He had left marks there before but this time he wanted to break skin, to taste the copper and hear his beautiful boy's aroused whimper.

"Yes," Jacob hissed. Whether he just enjoyed it or answered the question, Roth didn't know. Perhaps both.

He snapped his hips a few more times and then he spilled himself inside of Jacob with a low groan, knees getting weak and almost making him give in. But instead he let his body fall on Jacob's, with a wet mess between them, catching his breath. He didn't think that they would ever end up here again, post-coital and together.

Roth still didn't say a word, he just licked the blood from his own lips.

"My father," Jacob suddenly said, words slurred from the relief. "He didn't care for children... He didn't care that _we_ were children... All he wanted was a brotherhood of assassins that obeyed him. Children shouldn't be treated like adults, shouldn't work in factories to survive or be exposed to the cruelty of the streets. It hit a nerve... I couldn't do it."

Roth realised that he referred to that fateful day on the roof, when Jacob had betrayed him.

"And what would you do instead?" he asked Jacob, still seated inside of him. "Would you adopt them all to make yourself feel better? To be more than your father?"

Jacob almost laughed. "Tempting. Wouldn't you help me with that?"

"I would give you far too much, I realise that now. You corrupted me."

Jacob let loose a desperate sound, something between a laugh and a sob, bringing their lips together once more.

" _Me_ corrupting _you_?" He whispered between kisses. "Well, there's an idea."

Roth shuddered at the change of Jacob's voice. Darker and more vibrant. Perhaps Roth could give up a little of his freedom for that. It was a price worth paying.

* 

Starrick was lying dead on the ground, the shroud had become his very own, and it made sense to Roth that the templar was more respectable in death than in life. Jacob was bent over him, the blood dyed blade still hovering above the corpse. Roth felt nothing for the death of his former employer, he only cared for Jacob and his revenge, so he could let his sister go and be free. He could see the change in the assassin's eyes, how his whole face hardened as he wiped a white piece of fabric against the fatal wound.

They put back the shroud into where it had been locked up at, both not interested in that kind of power. Roth knew that the real power was made by men and women, not by artifacts. It only let you die a pathetic death like Starrick's. Now Jacob could leave and never turn back.

"Where are we going now?" Jacob helped Roth climb up onto the roof of Big Ben, the sunrise almost blinding them. A slight fog covered the streets of london, only revealing the rooftops that Jacob loved so much. He could travel through the city without touching the ground once.

Roth gave his best devilish smile and pressed himself against Jacob's back, lifting his arms like the wings of a rook.

"Just close your eyes and choose a direction."


End file.
